


The Terrible Tale of Sam, Castiel, and the Four Months Before the Apocalypse

by siriuslyyellow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bodyswap, Comedy, Crack, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Incest, M/M, Rape/Non-con References, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, Work In Progress, Written in 2009
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 03:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslyyellow/pseuds/siriuslyyellow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel figures out a way to stop the angels from killing Sam. (Not how it sounds.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Terrible Tale of Sam, Castiel, and the Four Months Before the Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on both LJ and FFN.
> 
> This was supposed to be the first chapter of six. I haven't worked on it in years. I'd still like to finish it, but I have no idea if or when that'll happen. Sorry. -.-;
> 
> I hope you like what's here, anyway! XD

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean arched back, thrusting into Sam deep, one last time. Sam clenched up at the motion, overcome by his own orgasm as Dean’s moans began to subdue.

In a moment, both of them were breathing heavily, sleepily, and Dean’s eyelids fluttered closed. He felt Sam shift underneath him so that both of them were more comfortable. Sam had simply lowered his legs, and even though Dean was still inside him, it felt so good that neither of them cared.

Dean fell asleep just like that, his chest to Sam’s back, the both of them as close as they could get.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Dean next opened his eyes, the room was dark. Which was weird, since whenever he and Sam had sex, Dean made sure to keep the light on. He shrugged mentally, then groaned and reached over to switch the lamp on.

The light flooded the room, an unnaturally bright white light that left no room for shadows. Dean looked around the room and saw Castiel standing at the foot of the bed.

“What the fuck, Cas?!” Dean exclaimed.

Dean pulled himself out of Sam quicker than he had thought possible. Sam gave a painful yell, half complaint and half whine, and dug his fingers into the pillow. Dean took the sheet with him as he jumped out of bed, and as Sam turned around to see what all the fuss was about, he finally realized that Castiel was standing there. Watching them.

“I don’t have much time,” Castiel began, ignoring their hasty clean-up. “This will be difficult for all of us. I apologize in advance.”

As Castiel spoke, Sam gasped, sat upright quickly, and, after blindly groping for the missing sheet, grabbed the pillow and put it over his thighs. After a moment when Castiel said no more, Sam cleared his throat. He kept his eyes on Castiel, but moved his face towards Dean. “Dean, what’s going on?”

Dean threw one hand up into the air while the other was tightly gripping the sheet to his body. “Does it look like I know?” He turned his head quickly from Sam to Castiel, his eyes narrowing in anger. “You wanna fill us in or just interrupt us fucking some more?”

“Dean,” Sam warned.

But Dean ignored him, keeping his eyes on Castiel, who vanished. “Cas?”

The light in the room became even brighter, so white that Dean and Sam had to cover their eyes with their hands to keep from getting blinded by it. They kept their eyes shut tight as the light whited-out the room entirely.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean opened his eyes. The lamp was on. He was still lying on top of Sam, still inside him. Sighing, relieved, Dean kissed the back of Sam’s neck.

“I just had the craziest dream,” Dean laughed.

“Dean,” Sam said, deeply.

Dean inhaled sharply. The way Sam said his name was much deeper than usual, more soulful than he had ever said it before. It made his pulse race and dick twitch.

Sam gasped at the movement inside of him. Dean smirked and kissed his neck again.

“What is this feeling?” Sam sounded exhilarated. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

“It’s called my dick,” Dean replied, licking Sam’s neck now.

Sam shuddered at Dean’s tongue. “Oh.”

Dean’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin. If Sam wanted to role-play, it was fine by him. “So, you like that?” Dean murmured into Sam’s hair.

“Yes,” Sam replied breathlessly, without missing a beat.

Dean laughed. “You want some more, already?” He let his hands slide down Sam’s body.

“More?” Sam asked earnestly.

Laughing again, Dean replied, “Sure, make jokes if you want, but I know you want it.” He reached underneath Sam to grab hold of his dick.

At which point Sam tossed his head back and groaned, overcome by the touch. Dean watched, awed and fascinated. It was almost like the first time Dean had touched Sam, which wasn’t their first time, what with Sam being so forceful and Dean wanting it so bad, but still. That had been years ago. What had gotten into Sam?

Dean’s body had stilled and Sam was beginning to regain his breath. “Dean, I think you should… Stop.”

Dean rolled Sam over to look into his eyes. “What? Why?”

Sam looked up at Dean beneath lowered eyelids. “Because you don’t want to do this.”

“The fuck I don’t!” Dean shouted.

He reached down and pulled up one of Sam’s legs, hiking it up over his shoulder. Then he pulled out of Sam and thrust quickly back in. Both of them moaned.

Sam was panting slightly. “You don’t want to do this with me.”

Dean looked directly at Sam. “How can you say that when you’re looking at me like that? And listen to you, moaning,” Dean drew out the last word, thrusting into Sam again. He licked his lips. “God, it sounds so fucking good.”

“Dean, please stop. You don’t want this,” Sam begged.

But Dean felt Sam’s body quivering underneath him and felt his own quiver in response. “You don’t know that,” Dean whispered. “I do want this.”

Sam looked slightly confused. “You… You do?”

Dean stared at Sam, determined. “Yeah.” He thrust into Sam again. “Don’t you want me?”

Sam nodded, his eyes wide. “Yes.”

“I want you, too,” Dean whispered into Sam’s ear, thrusting into him again. “Don’t you know that by now, Sammy? There’s only you.”

Instead of the comfort Dean meant his words to have, it looked like Sam was in even more pain than before.

Steeling his eyes, Sam replied, with an air of authority, “Stop.”

Dean jerked his head back and raised an eyebrow. “No.” He thrust into Sam again, and again, and again.

Sam’s mouth opened and closed with the movement of Dean’s dick, panting out a rhythm. “Stop,” he repeated, still managing to make it sound like an order, even in between his gasps.

Moving his face so that it was inches from Sam’s, Dean challenged, “Make me.”

Neither of them moved. After a moment’s silence, Sam nodded. Dean smirked victoriously, thinking that Sam’s nod meant it was okay for Dean to continue. He found out that was quite the opposite, however, when he fell down on the bed in the space that Sam had just been occupying.

Dean’s arm knocked into the headboard as he fell, trying and failing to reach out for balance. “What the fuck, Sam?” Dean shouted, angrily looking around until he spotted Sam at the foot of the bed. “You almost broke my dick, dude!”

“I’m sorry, but you weren’t stopping, so I had to stop it,” Sam replied.

Dean was quiet for a second before saying, as steadily as he could, “Okay, this just went from annoying to bizarre really fucking fast, and if you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on right now, I’m gonna punch you.” He took a deep breath, glad that he managed to keep from shouting.

Sam looked at Dean, and the look was so earnest that Dean knew whatever he said next would be true. “Dean, I’m Castiel.”

There was a pause where Sam let that sink in. Then Dean snorted, “Come on, man, I’m obviously pissed off! You could at least try to be serious.”

“It’s true,” Sam repeated matter-of-factly. He looked at Dean through lowered eyelids again. “Why would I lie?”

“Because… I don’t know, because you’re drunk or delirious or some other bullshit like that?” Dean knew that Sam was fucking with him, he just had to get him to admit it.

“Can Sam disappear and reappear at will?” Hearing Sam say his name in third person was truly strange, but it didn’t stop Dean from getting even more upset.

“Yeah, and that’s another thing. When the fuck are you gonna stop lying about your demon powers and tell me everything you can do?” Dean sat up and got out of bed, quickly getting close enough to Sam to shove an irritated finger in his face. “I’m getting fed up with all this hocus pocus crap you keeping pullin’ outta your ass.”

Sam exhaled a slight breath. “I’m telling you the truth. I am Castiel.” Sam lowered his head and looked up at Dean underneath his lowered eyelashes. “Truly.”

That wasn’t the first time Sam pulled that looking up through his eyelashes thing. It was something that Castiel did often, but Sam almost never did. Dean thought back about how Sam had told him to stop, that Dean didn’t want to, that he hadn’t felt anything like that before, that he liked it, that he wanted Dean…

Dean grew very still, his head spinning at all the implications.

Sam took it as a sign to continue. “Sam has not stopped using his demon blood. I have warned him to stop, as have others, and still he has not.”

“So… So, what? You killed him and took his body?” Dean had to sit down, but he was too far from the bed. He settled for the floor. “Wh- why?”

“You misunderstand,” Sam calmly replied. “I am here to help.”

Dean looked up at Sam, who was looking down at him. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “What are you even talking about, man?”

Sam knelt down beside Dean. “Dean. A while ago I received orders to stop Sam, as you know. But my superiors are getting restless. They told me to stop him now, by any means necessary. They think he will be a strong force in Lucifer’s army if allowed to continue his current path.” Dean’s head was still spinning, and even though his mind was shouting questions at him, his mouth wouldn’t open to voice them. Sam continued his explanation as he calmly repeated, “My orders were to stop Sam, but I didn’t want him to die. I know what that would do to you, and I… I felt that I had to find another way. Sam was still using the blood that Azazel forced upon him and the blood he willingly drinks from Ruby. The-”

“Wait, what? Sam’s drinking Ruby’s blood?” Dean didn’t know what was more appalling, the fact that Sam was drinking Ruby’s blood, or the fact that Dean had referred to Sam as if he wasn’t right there next to him talking. Dean looked up at Sam, and wanted to call him Castiel, and damn it, why the fuck was that? And why the fuck had Sam been drinking Ruby’s blood in the first damn pace? And was this really Cas? Like, really?

No matter how much he wanted to call his brother Castiel, the jury was still out on whether or not it was true, and he just couldn’t bring himself to admit that this was Cas. Not yet. And so, to Dean, it was Sam who continued speaking as if Dean hadn’t interrupted, as if Dean could actually grasp what the hell he was saying after being told all this. “The blood she gives him augments Azazel’s blood, which in turn makes Sam more powerful.” He paused to let the words sink in. “Sam’s not stopping. That’s not good, Dean.”

“No shit,” Dean muttered callously.

Sam waited until he caught Dean’s eyes. “There was only one option available. The demon blood is in Sam’s body, but not his soul. If I moved Sam’s soul to the body of my vessel, and I remained in Sam’s body, then Sam would be unable to use his powers, and therefore would not need to be killed.”

Dean crossed his arms back and forth in the air in between him and Sam, motioning for Sam to stop. “Wait a minute, hold up.” Dean looked at Sam directly, searching for any sign of Castiel. Sure, his words and actions were like Castiel’s, but unless Dean’s vision was going bad at an awfully fast pace, it was Sam who was sitting in front of him, telling him that he drank Ruby’s blood, and that he was an important member of Hell’s army, and that he needed to be stopped. It just didn’t make any sense.

Unless it wasn’t Sam.

Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes, thinking. He opened them again a moment later, and found his little brother’s face inches from his own. He jerked back.

“I apologize for startling you,” Sam said.

Shaking his head, Dean replied, “No, whatever, it’s okay.”

Sam replied tonelessly, “You weren’t speaking like you always do. I thought something might be wrong.”

Dean’s eyebrow shot up. “What?”

“You normally have a lot to say, but you have been silent. I found it strange,” Sam replied.

Dean snorted. “Well, lemme tell ya, I find a lot of this fucking conversation strange.”

Sam looked vaguely confused.

Dean shook his head and waved his last comment away with a swing of his hand. “Whatever. Listen,” he demanded as he straightened up, “I need you to prove to me that you’re Cas.”

“How?” Sam asked. “What else can I say that will make you believe?”

But Dean already had the answer. “You gotta tell me something only Cas would know, something I didn’t tell Sam.”

Sam stiffened. “You don’t want to hear it.”

“I have to,” Dean replied, steeling himself for the answer. There weren’t many options, and he really didn’t want to think about any of them.

There was a pause, and Dean thought Sam was either about to laugh and make fun of Dean for believing that he could be Cas, or that he was trying to think of how to delicately phrase whatever horrible fact he had been thinking of. Dean hoped for the former.

“You broke the first seal,” Sam answered, unblinking.

And then Dean looked at Sam, and he saw Castiel, and it scared the hell out of him.

Now it was obvious. Sam never spoke like he was reading from a dictionary. Unless he actually was reading from one, of course. And Sam almost never did that stupid eyelash thing. Dean could only remember the one time, and there was way too much tequila involved for that to even count. And every emotion Sam ever felt flitted across his face. It was impossible for him to act nonchalant about anything, no matter how trivial it was. And Sam certainly would never tell Dean to stop having sex with him.

Which brought Dean to the horrible realization that he had fucked Castiel. And Castiel had told him to stop. A few times. So, not only had Dean cheated on Sam, and he was sure Sam would just love to hear about that, but he had also raped Castiel.

He wanted to crawl into a corner and die.

“Why… Why the hell didn’t you stop me?” Dean muttered, jumping up from the floor and going to grab his jeans.

Castiel began to reply, “The demons were numerous. We couldn’t-”

Dean half-laughed. “Fuck, Cas! I meant when we were...,” Dean trailed off, and moved his hands in circles for a second. Then he gave up and threw his hands into the air. “Together, you know, before! But thanks for the reminder that I couldn’t keep my shit together in the Pit long enough for y’all to come and save my ass. Really, thanks.”

Castiel looked troubled. “It’s no one’s fault, Dean. I told you, it’s not about blame. It’s about-”

“Responsibilty! Yeah, thanks, I remember. Now answer the damn question. Why didn’t you push me off?” Dean pulled his pants on and quickly zipped them up.

Castiel stood up. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Dean snorted. “So why didn’t you, uh,” he started to ask why didn’t Castiel tell him to stop, then realized that he had, multiple times, and instead asked, “Why didn’t you tell me who you were earlier? Why didn’t you freakin’ teleport away sooner? Why the hell’d you wait?”

“I was disoriented, and I hadn’t expected to wake up in that… position,” Castiel replied. “It was an unexpected, but pleasant, experience.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open. He had no idea how to reply.

Castiel tilted his head. “You seem shocked.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up as he nodded and replied, mockingly, “Shocked? Really, what would give you that idea?”

Castiel looked confused. “So, you weren’t shocked?”

“I can’t even deal with this right now,” Dean said, absently scratching at the back of his neck. “For the love of God, put some clothes on!”

Looking down at Sam’s naked body, Castiel replied, “I don’t understand. We’ve been naked this entire conversation. Why are you uncomfortable now?”

Dean laughed humorlessly, exasperated. “I thought you were Sam before!”

“And being naked with Sam is acceptable?” Castiel was being so earnest, Dean wanted to punch his stupid face in. Then he thought that would be unfair to Sam, whose face it actually was.

“Yeah,” Dean replied. “It is.”

“And having intercourse with Sam is acceptable?” Castiel wondered.

Dean’s jaw set into a stubborn line. “Yeah, it is. Why, got a problem with it, Cas? Well, tough shit for you.”

Castiel answered, deadpan, “I don’t have a problem with it. I just thought it might be uncomfortable for you to have sexual feelings for your brother.”

“Oh my God!” Dean whirled around. “You know what? Fine! Go around naked then! See if I care.” Dean pulled his shirt over his head before he stopped and looked at Cas seriously. “Where’s Sam? I mean, if you’re here in his body, where’s he?”

“Sam is in a small town forty-two point three miles away from Paris.”

Dean dropped his sock. “What? Why is he there?”

“That’s where I was when we switched. I didn’t have time to pick a more convenient location. I had to switch our souls before the end of the dream. The light caused by a soul moving is too bright for human eyes unless it’s within a dream state,” Castiel explained.

“Oh,” Dean said, “is that what that damn bright-ass light was? You coulda warned us or something. Almost burned my freaking retinas.”

“I apologize.”

“Great, thanks, that makes it all better,” Dean replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m glad,” Castiel said, completely serious.

Dean rolled his eyes. “You and sarcasm need to become friends, fast.” He paused, saw that Castiel didn’t get it, then continued, “Whatever, look. Everything’s not okay, okay? You have to go get Sam and bring him here. I wanna keep track of him until we sort this whole mess out.”

Castiel nodded, then vanished.

“Wait, you forgot clothes!” Dean shouted at the empty air. He sighed and muttered, “Fuck.”

This was not going to be fun.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

An hour later, Castiel returned, looking sour, with Sam in tow.

Dean shot a look at Castiel and snapped, “What took you so long?” Then he ran up to Sam, asked, “Are you okay?”

Sam replied, “I apologize, Sam wanted to know what was happening, so I explained everything to him that I have previously told you.”

Dean backed away from Sam and looked over at Castiel, who smirked and said, “Hey, Dean. Yeah, I’m okay.”

Dean’s head spun. As strange as it was seeing almost no expressions on Sam’s face, it was ten times stranger seeing Castiel smirk. This was going to take some getting used to.

Sam, in Castiel’s body, playfully punched Dean’s shoulder. He laughed loudly, “You just ran up to Cas and thought it was me. That’s kinda hilarious.”

It seemed to Dean that Sam was forcing himself to smile. His actions didn’t have their usual lightness, and Dean knew that if Sam stopped pretending to be happy, he would probably break down. And wouldn’t that be a sight, seeing tears running down Castiel’s face. Still, Dean would play along as long as Sam needed him to.

Dean snorted. “Um, that’s not hilarious. At all, actually.”

Sam smiled. “It totally is.”

Then Sam’s demeanor changed abruptly and he pulled a bitch face. And if Dean thought seeing Cas smirk was strange, seeing Sam’s bitch face on Castiel had to be the single most bizarre thing he had ever seen in his life. Ever. And that was saying something, if he really thought about it.

“Why the hell would you let him leave naked? I had to go find clothes so people wouldn’t see my dick all over France,” Sam fumed.

Dean coughed, scratched the back of his neck, and looked away. “I think I hear my cell phone ringing...”

Sam threw his hands up. “Dude, I’m being serious! What the hell?”

“What the hell what, Sammy? He fucking disappeared. What am I supposed to do? I wake up, and he’s here instead of you, which was not cool, by the way,” Dean stopped abruptly before he really got himself into trouble.

Sam’s bitch face got more pronounced. “Yeah, I woke up in fucking France, Dean, okay? France. I don’t speak French!”

“Yo quiero Paris,” Dean replied.

“That’s Spanish,” Sam retorted.

Dean shrugged. “Whatever, same shit.”

“I’m sure it must have been awkward for you, Sam. I apologize again. We had little time,” Castiel interrupted.

Sam shrugged. “That’s okay, Cas. At least I’m back now. What happened while I was gone?”

And man, watching Sam in Castiel’s body talking to Castiel in Sam’s body was really something. Dean would need some time to adjust. Probably a lot of time. He needed to get into the habit of looking at Sam and thinking that Castiel was in his body, and looking at Castiel and thinking that Sam was in his body. And he needed to get used to it right quick.

Dean began to speak but Castiel cut him off, explaining, “I woke up and Dean was on top of me. It felt... very good.”

Dean covered his face with his hands.

“Really?” Sam replied, and from the sound of it Dean was glad he couldn’t see his face. Or rather, Castiel’s face. Whatever.

“Yes,” Castiel answered, earnestly. “Dean said it was his dick.”

Dean really, really, really, wished that he was anywhere else but there.

“I’ll bet he did,” Sam said, sounding like he was trying not to sound pissed off.

“Sammy,” Dean mumbled, “look, it wasn’t really like that…”

“Yes, it was,” Castiel said.

Sam shook his head and glared at Dean. “Oh, believe me, Dean, we’ll talk about it later.”

Dean hung his head and believed him.

Sam looked at Castiel. “So, what, am I permanently in your body now? Because that sucks.”

“My vessel,” Castiel corrected, “and no, this is only a temporary change.”

“Temporary?” Dean and Sam asked simultaneously.

“Yes,” Castiel replied. “As I have told both of you, the blood of Azazel and Ruby is within Sam’s body.”

“Yeah!” Dean shouted over Castiel, trying to turn the tables on Sam. “We gotta talk about that too, Sam. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’re getting your kicks offa sucking back demon blood. That’s fucking… I don’t even know what that is.”

“What the hell do you know?” Sam hissed, defensively. “How do you think I saved your ass, shit, both your asses, from Alastair, huh? So don’t even think about bitching me out, because I’ve had it up to here with you and your bitching!”

“Dean. Sam. Stop.” Castiel stopped the oncoming fight before it got worse. Both brothers were silent as Castiel continued, “Sam is given four months, and four months only, to prove himself. My superiors need to believe that he will not use his demon powers ever again, no matter what. This means that he must either stay out of the way entirely, or go back to fighting demons using normal human methods. If, at the end of four months, my superiors believe that he will use his powers again, then Sam will be killed.”

Dean and Sam both stared at Castiel, shocked. Then they looked at each other, and there was a long moment of silence as memories of the last time Dean and Sam thought they only had a short time left together came flooding back.

They both looked at Castiel, who was looking at Sam. After a moment, Castiel said, “You haven’t stopped using your powers, no matter how many times we warned you. It took more effort than you’d care to imagine to convince my superiors to do this.” Castiel looked down and away from both of them. “There are worries about keeping an angel in a vessel that contains demon blood. However, there are rules, and there are exceptions, and those worries are mine.” Castiel turned his head to face Dean, but it took a few seconds for his eyes to follow. “I believe this is for the best.”

Dean looked up at Castiel, once again seeing Sam, and nodded. He looked over at Sam, who was looking at him, and watched as Sam’s half-smile twitched quickly onto and off of Castiel’s face. Dean gave a half-hearted smile in reply.

“This is the last thing I can do to help you, Sam,” Castiel said, deadly serious. “The very last.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_to be continued…_


End file.
